Appreciation
by Poisoned Scarlet
Summary: "She wanted to see the stars again" - Maka has twenty four hours to reveal the location of a powerful spellbook she knows nothing of before she is executed by a witch.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Soul Eater nor the song lyrics to _24_ and _Just a Ride _by Jem.

**Appreciation  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Part I<strong>_

"_It's as clear as crystal  
>The places I've been, the people I've seen<br>Plans I made, start to fade  
>The sun is setting gold<br>Thought I would grow old  
>It wasn't to be..."<em>

* * *

><p>Her wrists were chafed raw by the cuffs.<p>

She sunk the heel of her boot into the stone floor to hold herself up against the wall. Her shoulders were sore; the chains reaching up too high for her to comfortably stand. If she wasn't careful, she would slide forward and hang like a lifeless puppet.

It had been two days since she last ate. Her stomach felt empty and sour.

The only source of water she had was the leaky pipe above her head that dripped whenever one of _them_ twisted the faucet in the bathroom.

It wasn't often they did that.

Serving Lord Death had always been a dream of hers since she was a little girl. Her father gloated about him to her regularly, filling her young mind with so much colorful imagery. She would often squeal and eagerly agree whenever her father said that one day, she would be at the top with Lord Death. That one day, _she _would be the one to create a strong Deathscythe like her mama had. That one day, _she _would make them both very proud...

But then her goals skewed somewhere when she was ten.

Her papa wasn't as mighty and awing as she believed.

He was no better than those mean men in the TV drama's her mama would sometimes watch with her.

He cheated, he lied, and he gambled.

He basked in the sin of his nightlife and she was witness to nearly every terrible thing he did behind her mama's back: how he'd let other girls hang on his arms like trophies when her mama was overseas at work, how he would sometimes drink himself so blind he'd stumble through the doorway of their home and fall flat on his face, or how he even had the audacity to whisper _don't tell mama about this, okay, Maka-chan? _and she was dumb enough to listen.

By the time her mama got sick of his lies and divorced him, she was determined to create the greatest Deathscythe Lord Death had ever seen for different reasons: to spite the father she had once adored, not because she wanted to make her papa proud. She shifted her attention to her mama; her strong, independent, mama. She deserved it, Maka had decided, not her useless father.

She partnered up with Soul Eater Evans, a musically inclined Demon Scythe, and together they grew into a pair strong enough to take on witches and Kishin's alike. Distrusting him at first due to his gender, she kept her distance and tried to think nothing of their growing bond. But she supposed it was inevitable that she'd begin to befriend him, tolerate him, then care for him; like him, then love him.

She still didn't quite know when the lines of friendship and longing had smudged. But she _did_ know when their missions became more intense: right after Kishin Asura's downfall. All of them – Black Star and Tsubaki, Kid and the Thompson Sisters – began to tackle more difficult missions, extended ones, and ones that had very little survival rates at times.

It didn't take long for her to accomplish her goal, either: convert Soul into a Deathscythe.

Then she made the biggest mistake in her life, the mistake she'd promised herself she would never make: she underestimated her opponent. Of course, her opponent had come off laughingly weak, it could be justified that she had let her guard down. However, that didn't erase the fact that she'd totally _underestimated_ him.

She hadn't over-analyzed the situation like she had been told so many times _not _to do but still did out of habit. Except for that _one_ time...

She hadn't thought that maybe he was feigning injury to have her drop her guard, that maybe she should have been more careful because her Soul Perception had grown too dangerous for witches to ignore, or that _maybe_ she should have heeded Stein's advice to watch her back and _never_ let her guard down.

Not over-analyzing the situation had been a bad move; a mistake that was now costing her dearly.

That was her fighting style, why had she changed it at the last moment? Thinking things through, finding a path, and attacking with the aid of Soul's strategic genius – that was her _style_. When she slowly began to _stop_ that cycle, to _stop_ thinking in exchange for blind fighting, it was _bound_ to end in failure because that simply wasn't the type of person she had been raised to be.

She wished she could have thought this through at home, in her bed, during one of those nights when she couldn't sleep because her mind was abuzz with thoughts...

Not in a cold holding cell, chained to the wall, helpless to her fate.

"Hey, you still alive in there?"

Maka rose her head, squinting against the bright light from the open door.

She hadn't seen daylight in nearly three days and adjusting to it now was painful.

"Lady Tanya is growing bored of your games." Her captor relayed, walking into the dingy cell. "If you don't give us the information we want, we _will_ kill you." He grabbed her chin and forced her to look into his cold, black, eyes. "Don't think we're playing around, either. You're far too dangerous to be walking around as it is. Lady Maaba would be relieved to have someone like _you _out of her way..."

Maka didn't comment – partially because he had punched her hard enough to dislocate her jaw a few hours ago (she had painfully snapped it back into place but she was still too sore to speak) and partially because she wouldn't betray her friends, her family, her _god_, for a waste of skin like him.

"Still not talking, eh?"

He dropped her chin.

"Twenty four hours." He stated. Maka pushed off the ground when she felt she was slipping. "You have twenty four hours to make up your mind and tell us where Death hid the Dark Arts Spellbook of Witchcraft."

Maka tried to speak but she only managed a breathless grunt, still struggling to push herself up the wall because her right shoulder was killing her.

"Choose wisely."

The door shut.

"...But... I don't know where—it is." She finally confessed, to nothing but darkness.

And she really didn't.

Liz and Patty had been the ones to take that mission with Death the Kid, and Liz had been the one who snatched the spellbook from right under their noses before bolting away.

They had the wrong girl.

Too bad they didn't believe her.

* * *

><p>"<em>In eighteen hours they'll be laying flowers on my life..."<em>

* * *

><p>She hacked out blood.<p>

He waited for her fit to pass before delivering another blow to her gut.

Her shackles _clinked_ and _clanked_ against stone, the noise sharp and piercing in her ears as her vision distorted.

"Where's the book?"

"I.. don't know!"

Another kick, another wheeze.

The same question, the same answer.

It was a vicious cycle.

Maka was sure her interrogator just liked kicking her when she was down, just liked seeing her blood on the stone, because he didn't seem very concerned about whether she answered right or not.

He _knew _what she would answer and he just beat her out of protocol and nothing more: he just liked extracting his revenge on an object that was invaluable to the God that set up rules for the people to obey and bow down to.

Laws that prevented him the freedom he longed for.

"Has she said anything yet?" Someone else asked, as Maka swallowed deep mouthfuls of air.

"No, not yet."

"Lady Tanya is getting tired of waiting for her to speak."

"Just eighteen more hours to go... she'll talk, don't worry. I'll make sure of it."

Maka felt blood gush from her broken nose, stream down her chin and taint the floor a nasty scarlet.

_Scarlet_...

Crimson, like his eyes.

She deliriously watched her blood pool around her boots before black overcame her.

* * *

><p>"<em>In thirteen hours they'll be laying flowers on my life<br>It's over tonight..."_

* * *

><p>Mirror.<p>

Mirror, mirror, _breath! _

Fog.

42 42 564...

He's so stupid.

He's so _dumb_.

He brought in that mirror to show her her bloody face, her bruised and bloody lips, and her hopeless and empty eyes.

He brought it in to induce despair.

But he had only rooted hope in her heart.

He broke it, crushing it under his foot, and said he would be back after a little break because he grew bored of hitting and kicking and slapping a foolish girl like her, and he had left, shutting the door and, with it, the only light she had been able to see for the past few hours.

_I need that mirror! _Maka thought desperately, sliding down the wall until she hung limply. Her boot shakily dragged a decent shard of glass closer to her. She was stumped as to what to do next. Finally, she painstakingly toed off her boot, careful not to cut herself when she tried to grab the piece of glass between her toes.

However, it was too late: she had already cut through the tender webbing. She bit down a cry when she felt blood seep through her sock.

This, however, was no time to be weak. She had to contact Lord Death! She had to do _something, _and she was not about to waste this golden opportunity because of a dumb little cut.

She brought her leg up slowly, breathing in deeply and leaning heavily against the wall as her foot reached up to her head. She had always been flexible, which would account to why she was so great at slipping away from the enemies clutches, and her fingers reached out desperately for her foot.

She had to really force herself, a cry escaping her lips when she stretched beyond her reach.

She felt the cold glass against her trembling fingertips, and suddenly it was worth the pain.

Salvation, or perhaps an opportunity to make everything right again, lay in her hands.

The door opened and Maka panicked, clutching the piece of glass in her palm and fearfully looking up at the interrogators grinning face.

"Ready for round two, beautiful?"

"Fuck you!" Maka sneered.

The glass cut through her skin with every kick and mock.

But she still had it and that was all that mattered.

* * *

><p>"<em>In just eight hours they'll be laying flowers on my life<br>It's over tonight  
>I'm not messing, no, I need your blessing..."<em>

* * *

><p>42 42 564 whenever you want to knock on Death's door...<p>

The cell was cold, _frosty_, but good for her to simply breathe against the glass and write in the number in with shaky fingers. It almost didn't fit but she _made_ it fit, and she was so, so grateful for the piece of glass; so, so grateful to be able to say goodbye one last time and make things _right_ again. Because she knew her fate was sealed the instant they tossed her into the cell. There was no going around it.

"Maka! Maka-chan, is that really you?" His voice, jubilant and hyper, sounded misplaced in a building where only trickery and insanity abounded. "Thank goodness!"

"Lord Death!" Maka whispered. "I'm so glad I was able to contact you... I thought for sure they'd notice the glass and take it away from me!"

"Maka-chan, I need you to tell me your location immediately." He cut to the chase. She guessed it was because she must look like shit and he was most definitely convinced she wouldn't be able to take anymore beatings. He was, after all, a God of Death. He must surely know the telltale signs of it. "We'll come to your aid ASAP!"

"But I-I don't _know_ where I am!" Maka admitted, defeated. "They blind-folded me when I regained consciousness. All I remember hearing was that they...they were going to be late to some game. I'm so sorry, Lord Death, I should have been more careful! This is all my fault, if only I hadn't... let my guard down, then he wouldn't have kidnapped me and..."

"Are you sure you have no idea? Think, Maka, think! Anything will do!"

"None whatsoever." Maka sighed. "They haven't given any hint to where I'm being kept."

It was silent for a moment.

The only option they had left felt tangible; weighed the air between them with its implications.

"I see... Do you wish to see Soul and your friends?" _One last time _was what he failed to say but she still heard it loud and clear. Maka nodded heavily, and there was a brief period of silence, when she could only passively think_ this was it_, before a door crashed open on the other side of the glass. She rose dull eyes as Soul and her friends barged in, breathless but relieved to hear news about her.

Until they saw her bittersweet smile, the pitiful greeting of, "Hey you guys..." that was so horribly out of place when she was less than seven hours away from death.

"Maka-chan!" Tsubaki gasped, covering her mouth in horror. She stared at the blood on her face, tears welling in her eyes. Maka wished she had cleaned up a little bit before contacting them. "Oh, _Maka-chan_..." She cried.

"Maka..." Soul breathed, with a sharp chord of despair. She didn't want to see that helpless look on his face ever again but she realized she wouldn't be able to keep that thought for much longer.

Black Star clenched his hands, Kid was grimly looking at his father, and the Thompson sisters were stuck silent, staring at Maka with horror at how abused she was.

"Where are you, Maka?" Soul demanded, swallowing his shock. "Maka, where the hell are you? We'll come save you! Just hold up a little longer and we'll—!"

"No."

"What?"

Maka shook her head, forcing her eyes to stay open. She just needed a few minutes. A few minutes would be enough to make amends and apologize for promises she would not be able to fulfill. "You can't come save me because I don't _know _where I am." She revealed, bleakly. "I don't know where they took me... All I know is that in less than seven hours, they're going to kill me. If I don't die of blood loss first, that is." Maka added morbidly, closing her eyes against a wave of nausea.

"Don't say stupid shit like that, Maka!" Black Star roared, before anyone else could reply. "_I'm _going to save you. I'm going to save your dumb ass and drag you back here and then you'll be so grateful that I saved your sorry butt that you'll _never_ Maka Chop me again!" He screamed, pointing an accusing finger at her. A smile ghosted her lips at his strong but empty words. "Do you hear me? We're coming to save you, Maka, so don't you _dare _give up on us!"

"Black Star is right!" Tsubaki second, clutching her heart and steadying her voice. "We're going to save you, Maka! Please don't speak like this! Y-you're not going to _die_!"

Maka dropped her eyes to her muddy boot for a moment. "You always knew what to say to make me feel better, Tsubaki." Maka began, with a soft smile. "You were always like a sister to me...you and Black Star always cheered me up, even if Black Star just annoyed me half the time."

"Maka, please, _don't do this_..." Tsubaki pleaded, a sob escaping her because her friends words sounded more like a parting than a fleeting comment.

"Maka, that's enough!" Soul demanded harshly; jaw tight, fists balled by his side. "You're _not_ going to die so shut up!"

"Soul..." Maka's face cracked in anguish for a split second before she composed herself again. But they all caught it. "I'm so sorry for everything."

"Maka..."

"You always put up with me and my temper... I always hit you with my books, too." She lowered her eyes, ashamed for her actions. "I'm sorry..."

"Stop it. I don't care about that. Maka, it doesn't matter to me!" Soul said, voice wavering. She wasn't dying; she was being emotional again, that was all. He refused to believe otherwise. She wasn't going to die – she _couldn't, _she was his _partner_! Who was he without his _master? _Nothing but a useless tool; a useless, broken, tool. "You're _not_ going to die. Talking like that – isn't cool at all!"

"You're not uncool, even if I told you you were sometimes..." Maka continued. She allowed a small, but genuine, smile to brief her lips. "You were the coolest partner I could have ever asked for. I hoped to be able to train you but I...I guess that c-can't happen anymore." Her voice broke and, along with it, a strong pain blossomed in her chest; stronger than the cuts and bruises adorning her body. She couldn't hold back tears anymore: the truth had sunk in, and it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Damn it, Maka!" He snarled, charging up to the mirror. He gripped it on either side, shouting: "Shut up, you moron! Shut the _fuck_ up! You're _not_ going to die! We're going to save you before that happens! This was my fault and I'm not going to give up on you until we get you out of there!"

"This isn't your fault!" Maka shouted back. "I was the one who underestimated our opponent!"

"But _I _should have been able to protect you! But I didn't – I failed..." Soul ground his teeth, knuckles snow white. He hung his head. "I _failed_ you, Maka.."

"No, you didn't." Maka whispered, throat tight with emotion. "You couldn't have known that he would come from behind to attack me. We both thought we defeated him. It wasn't your fault – it was _mine _for not noticing. It's a meister's duty to defeat the enemy, it's a weapons duty to aid the meister!"

"But it's also a weapons duty to _protect_ their meister." Soul shut his eyes. It hurt so bad, seeing her so bloody and broken and all because he was too _incompetent _to do his job right. It hurt enough for him to hurl out his breakfast. The only thing that kept this from happening was sheer will power.

Maka wished she could reach out through the glass to bury her fingers in his white hair, to caress his cheek and tell him it wasn't his fault; too soothe him from the pain he was feeling in his soul. But she couldn't, and all she _could_ do was imagine those loving gestures – gestures she would never be able to do. Despair choked her silent.

"MAKA!" Spirit screamed into the room, panicked and teary-eyed. All heads snapped to him. "MY ANGEL, WHERE ARE YOU? MAKAAA!"

Soul darkly looked toward the man who gasped for breath as he desperately searched for his daughter. "MA—!" He choked off when he finally saw her, her exhausted and sunken eyes looking at him wearily. "Maka, what is this...?" His voice cracked. He looked around in search for answers. "Wh-what...?"

"Papa..."

It's too tragic.

She guessed she should be grateful to be offered an opportunity to make amends.

The conversation with her father fluctuated from serious to her being annoyed with his constant wailing. But in the end, there was only one thing they shared, and it was this that made his legs weak and made her eyes water. She was already crying by the time her father finished telling her how much he loved her; how much he regretted his actions, his carelessness, and his neglect. How she was right all along: he _was_ an idiot, but he was an idiot who _adored_ his daughter to bits.

It broke her heart to hear those sincere words. She never thought she'd be able to hear such honest words from her father.

"Stupid papa!" Maka cried, shoulders shaking. Sobs escaped her. "You're so stupid! Stupid, stupid, _stupid!_"

"I know." Spirit whispered, shutting his eyes against another wave of grief. "I know, Maka..."

"But I guess... you were a good papa." Maka smiled brokenly at him. "Even if you were stupid, you were the best father I could have asked for. I just wish mama—!" Her eyes widened and her breath caught, dropping her head to hide the fresh wave of despair. Her _mother_. How would her mother react to her death? "... Tell her I love her.. _a lot._"

Spirit numbly nodded, and that was when Maka noticed Stein was supporting him, his face wiped of emotion. He gazed evenly at her, nodding solemnly. He knew her fate already: there were no two ways about it. "You were always my best student." He simply said.

But his words conveyed so much more.

Maka smiled tremulously. "Thank you...you were always my f-favourite teacher."

"Father, I can't take this anymore!" Kid shouted into the gloom, making his presence known again. He strode forward, demanding: "There _has_ to be a way to locate her – she is using a broken shard of a mirror, can't you simply pin-point her location using that?"

"It's... not that simple, kiddo." Lord Death said quietly. "The magic is so thick and powerful where she is being kept hostage that even _I_ can't penetrate through it. She is very far away – that is the most information we have right now."

Kid sneered, gold eyes narrowed with grimness. "There has to be a way... There _has _to..."

Maka looked at Kid and said, very simply: "Maybe when you take your fathers place, you can figure out a way so this never happens again." He looked at her, his eyes tinted with an aged sadness. "I know you'll make a great God, Kid, but you better watch out..." She forced a laugh. "Black Star might take that spot from right under your nose."

Kid forced a smile for her sake.

Liz was crying loudly into Patty's chest, the younger sister rocking her side to side comfortingly. Maka gave them one glance and smiled at Patty, conveying her words into expressions the young girl could easily decipher. Patty's eyes watered even more and she buried her face into her sisters hair in reply, shaking her head frantically.

Maka lowered her eyes.

She couldn't bear the sight of her friends crying so hard for her, maybe this had been a mistake after all...

"DAMN IT!" Black Star bellowed, slamming a fist into the floor. It left a sizable dent."DAMN IT! DAMN IT! _DAMN IT!_" Maka watched while he shook with rage at being unable to do anything; absolutely nothing. Tsubaki kneeled beside him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, the only comfort she could offer her meister.

"Black—!" Maka froze, her eyes wide with terror.

"Maka? Maka, what's wrong?" Soul asked, alarmed.

"They're—!"

"_Are you ready to talk now?" _They heard, as Maka hid the shard of glass in her palm. They could only hear now. _"You have five hours to make up your mind. She wants the spellbook _now_."_

"... I don't know where it is."

"_This again, huh? You really like getting the shit beaten out of you, don't you?"_

She didn't reply.

Soul shook with a homicidal rage.

He wanted to rip him apart for hurting his meister – watch his blood spill, watch his guts and flesh and muscles tear at the touch of his scythe – !

"_You're making me miss the game! It's the Chicago Bulls VS Shit City. I'd tell you who wins but you'll be dead by then. Ahh, decisions, decisions... I could leave you here and kill you later or I could go watch the game. Eh, what the hell? You're as good as dead anyway. These tickets cost me half my salary, too, and I'm not about to give 'em away!"_

Soul froze.

Black Star sucked in a sharp breath.

Tickets.

_Basketball_ tickets.

Soul nearly gave himself a whiplash turning to Black Star, whose face had broken into a dangerous grin.

"Black Star..." Soul didn't dare to breath.

Bingo.

"Chicago." Black Star stated, with growing glee. "She's in _Chicago_!"

"But we don't know _where _in Chicago!" Kid reminded, impatient.

"But Stein does." Soul suddenly said. He turned to the professor, who caught on immediately. "Do you think you can sense her soul in such a big city?"

Stein smirked, slipping a cigarette between his lips. "If the magic is as thick as Lord Death says it is, I should be able to pinpoint their location – even if they have a barrier protecting them. From there, we can track down Maka. Leave it to me."

"Soul." Black Star called, staring straight at him. His eyes were stars that glittered dangerously, crackling with a volatile revenge. It was mirrored in his own bloody eyes, darker and thicker and drowned with bloodlust. The insanity that sparked within them was seemingly more terrifying than the sharp, spinning, stars in Black Star's eyes. "We're running out of time. We have to go _now_."

He nodded. "Right!"

"I'm coming, too." Kid interjected, sparing his father a glance. ""Liz, Patty, come on. We're going to rescue Maka. Father, if you would excuse me."

"I understand! Knock 'em dead, Kiddo!" The Death God watched as they assembled, as Tsubaki picked herself up and wiped her face of tears; face set with determination. Liz and Patty made their way to Kid, both still caught in the throes of grief for nearly losing their dear friend but with a new, hopeful, spark in their eyes.

Unity at its best.

He was proud of them.

"Lord Death?" Spirit called, staring at the floor. "I'm going, too."

"Are you sure, Spirit? It will be quite a difficult mission to take on when you're still so emotionally unstable. It won't be easy."

"I'm going." Spirit stated firmly. He turned to Stein, who stood leisurely toward the side, waiting for him to follow the group of students. Spirit gazed at the mirror, the mirror that had finally cut connection because Maka couldn't keep it on for much longer without being found out.

His daughter, being abused in such a horrible manner, being hurt so horrifyingly, all because of one error; one small mistake they were all guilty of.

She didn't deserve it.

He clenched his fists.

He would not fail as a father and allow his daughter to die in such ghastly conditions.

When she died, after _he_ had passed away first, it would be in the arms of the person she loved and _not_ in a dingy, cold and dirty, cell like some animal.

Spirit caught Soul's arm before they left.

"You better take good fucking care of her, you brat." Spirit sneered, his fingers digging into his flesh. He wasn't oblivious: he noticed the way they looked at each other, smiled at each other, laughed with each other. He didn't like it, but what choice did he have? He couldn't control what her heart wanted. "When she comes back, you better treat her like she's a _goddess_, do you hear me, Soul Eater? Or I'll personally gut you and decorate the Shibusen gates with your entrails." He threatened.

Soul stared at him, shocked he'd relinquish his daughter so easily, but the shock melted into understanding, and he smirked. "Loud and clear, you pervy Deathscythe."

Spirit managed a grim smile. "Good. C'mon! Get your ass moving! We have to save my daughter!"

* * *

><p>"<em>In just one hour they'll be laying flowers on my life<br>I'm not messing, no, I need your blessing  
>And your promise to live free<br>Please do it for me..."_

* * *

><p><em>Damn...<em>

She hung from her shackles like a doll.

She _had_ been for a good two hours now. Before the interrogator had left to watch his game, he had given her a good beating – going as far as stabbing a knife in her thigh and watching her bleed out for a while.

The blood was a steady flow. Although she had only lost a few splats of it before, now she was _dripping_ it.

She rolled her head back, breathing laboriously.

That couldn't be good.

Everything felt surreal, the longer she bled out.

From the rhythmic _drip, drip _of the leaky pipe to the way her heart pounded within every inch of her body.

Her body couldn't support itself anymore as well – weakened by lack of food, water and now blood.

_This is it._

She was going to die of blood loss first.

She wasn't _too_ disappointed, to be honest.

She wasn't going to be victim to a witches magic, which had the power to destroy a soul, nor was she going to be stabbed or kicked to death, but rather she would die peacefully of blood loss. If she was lucky, she would lose consciousness first and die in her unconscious once there was no more blood left to pump through her heart.

But maybe she had already exhausted her good fortune by being able to say goodbye to the ones she cared for.

And even then, she hadn't done it very well.

_Tsubaki, Black Star..._

She never told them how she honestly _did_ believe Black Star would surpass the gods one day in his own way, and Tsubaki would be right by his side the entire way; guiding him, caring for him, keeping him on the right path...

_Kid, Liz and Patty..._

She never told them they were always good friends; always there to cool her temper, Liz with her wit and Patty with her laugh. Kid had always been the one to bring her out of a bad mood with his hilarious OCD fits or his calm logic, and he had always been the one to discuss deeper educational and even moral reasons with her.

_Papa, Mama..._

Her mama was great, the best, and obviously she didn't match up if she was going to die so brutally. At least she had completed her goal of turning Soul into a Deathscythe; it made her feel accomplished that she had at least made it that far.

Her father, despite being a sinner and imperfect, would always be her papa – however dumb he sometimes was. She just wished she hadn't pushed him away for so long...

_Professor Stein, Marie, Sid, Nygus..._

Her teachers had always guided her, protected her, and trained her. They always made her push herself to her limit and never hesitated to point out her mistakes so that she could improve. They were always there to help her, and she was grateful to have met them.

_Lord Death..._

She had no other choice: to serve under a God was to obey his word. His word was law. She would lie for him, risk for him, and, apparently, _die_ for him, too. She always took things far too seriously...this was the result of it, she supposed.

_Soul..._

First and foremost, she regretted not telling him she loved him. And that, because of him, she had managed to overcome her bias toward men. She was able to realize that not all of them were like her papa, that some _did_ have admirable character traits and that some _were _trustworthy.

She never told him how he had earned her trust; earned her _everything_.

She never told him how she actually didn't mind when he propped his feet up on the coffee table or took up the entire space on the couch to watch television.

She never told him how she liked his attention, however much it pissed her off since he'd only crack jokes about her, or how she found it adorable when he slumped asleep against her shoulder after a long day.

So many things to say, too little time.

She hadn't had time to really think about her life, either: how many days she spent angry over pointless things or how many days she spent not doing the things she wanted because she was too lazy or under-confident.

So much time, _gone_.

So much time she wished she had at the moment...

An explosion jolted her awake.

She wasn't aware she had even _lost_ consciousness until another explosion disturbed her. Noise came from outside the metal door, shouts for reinforcements and hollers that asked about the situation.

Her Soul Perception was weak due to her dying body but she just barely caught glimpses of the frenzy outside: how many souls, both witch and human alike, were running around wildly; in no apparent order.

Panicked.

Her Soul Perception shorted out abruptly and a giant headache took place behind her eyes. She must have overused it again – it had happened to her, what, sixteen hours or so ago, too? She couldn't really remember, the steady pulse of pain that rippled through her body prevented deeper thought. She shut her eyes and concentrated on the slowing beat of her heart.

That usually helped ease her headache.

The door slammed open but Maka barely reacted.

Footsteps rushed to her, and a voice went in and out of focus. When she finally managed to raise her head to look at her new torturer, she was shocked to find Professor Stein kneeling before her.

"Professor..." She rasped, as Stein picked the lock with the thin tip of his scalpel.

"Don't speak, Maka." He demanded, poking around the inner-workings of the lock. "You're too weak. Save your energy." She heard the live-saving _click _but she fell instead, her knees buckling under the sudden weight of herself. He caught her before she hit the floor, a twitch of a smile on his lips when he felt her hot blood leak on his hands.

He had to pause to control his spiking insanity.

"You are bleeding very heavily. I'll have to staunch the wound right here if we want to bring you back to Shibusen alive. Such unsanitary conditions, but I have no choice..." He laid her on the dirty floor, her fingers skimming the edge of the boot she had discarded in her rush to grab the piece of glass hours ago.

"AH!" Maka swallowed another cry, her nails digging into the floor as he evaluated her wounds. She was sure, when he applied pressure again, she fainted from sheer overload, because the next time she became aware of anything, she was being carried down a hall and lights were flashing by her like the strobe lights from Kid's late night parties.

"I got her! Move out!" Stein shouted over the discord, his voice carrying perfectly despite the static. Maka weakly turned her head, able to make out some familiar faces. She saw Kid had soul resonated with his weapons, taking on a small army of henchmen. Black Star was eliminating his enemies from left to right; the elegant black tattoos on his face alight with the power of their resonance.

And Soul...

"Soul..." Maka whispered. Stein glanced at her briefly. He was fighting, too – bringing them down with skill, skill she didn't even know _where_ he learned from until she caught a familiar move; the quick side-step that she often did when she was wielding him.

Stein started forward again, tearing them from her sight, and Maka grieved the loss.

She wanted to keep seeing him, _them_, because she had come so close to death and realized she had appreciated so little.

Cold assaulted her seconds after. It was freezing outside, colder than the inside of her cell because at least the size of her cell had been able to contain _some_ warmth.

Outside was simply deathly.

Her eyes sought the sky that was a starless black, a shadowed moon hanging far up above. Clouds circled about it, gunmetal gray against the indigo of the sky. She could see the air above her swirl with bits of ice from the cold.

In Death City, she wasn't able to see the stars unless she went to the outskirts of town.

She suddenly wanted to see the stars again.

Maka closed her eyes as Stein carried her to safety.

That time she dreamt of bright, glimmering, stars behind the wide grins of her friends and family.

* * *

><p>"<em>And I can't believe how I've been wasting my life..."<em>

* * *

><p><em><strong>A.N: <strong>_Are you convinced I have no life now? But I enjoy every second of it, so don't worry your pretty little heads :D

Yes, this does contain a part two, which is her recovery period. Lucky you, huh?

Maan, I listen to way too much music. Soul would be proud XD

_Scarlett_


	2. Chapter 2

**Appreciation  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Part II<strong>_

"_Life, it's ever so strange  
>It's so full of change..."<em>

* * *

><p>The ceiling was white.<p>

It was reminiscent of that white glow she saw before her captor walked to her, taunted and mocked her, then proceeded to beat her and make her bleed.

She shut her eyes, hoping the white would disappear.

It didn't.

"Finally awake, Maka?" A voice asked, familiar and welcomed. Maka turned her stiff neck to see a stitched up lab coat, an unlit cigarette dangling off her professors lips. He watched her through the glare of his glasses, observing her for any psychological traumas she might have from her experience.

"Professor Stein...?" She cleared her hoarse throat. "What... where am I?"

"Death City General Hospital." Stein answered. "We had you transferred here from a hospital in Iowa, as you were in a critical state. It was the closest medical facility that would admit you immediately at the time, thankfully."

"Oh..." Maka tried to move her arms but hissed. They hurt! Actually, her shoulders hurt as well. And so did her head – she had a _terrible_ headache, now that she awakened a little more. She carefully moved her hands, her shoulders protesting with every inch, and touched her sore eyes with her fingertips. She rubbed them out, trying to get rid of the awful, scratchy feeling.

"How are you feeling?" Stein asked, pulling up a chair and taking out her chart from his pocket.

"Tired." Maka croaked, her fingers brushing a swollen cheek. She wondered how much better she looked now – she knew she had been changed into a hospital gown, so she was relatively clean. Her clothes, she knew, were very bloody and dirty and torn up; no way would they had left her in them in a hospital. "My shoulders really hurt..."

"That would be because of the amount of time spent dangling by chains. It's not very healthy." Stein said, dryly. "There was minor muscle damage due to it. Nothing rest can't heal. The most pressing injury was the knife wound in your thigh. The two broken ribs, concussion, and deep bruises didn't cause much problem."

"Concussion...?" Maka repeated, uneasily.

"You must have hit your head against the wall." Stein elaborated, catching her flinch but not commenting on it. "You have a minor concussion."

"That's why my head hurts..." Maka mumbled, touching her head softly. She felt very tired, enough to just fall asleep and let the pain disappear for a few hours. But she wanted to stay awake; she felt starved of human contact. "Professor... Soul, where is he?"

"Outside." Stein answered. "He hasn't left since we admitted you to the emergency room."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Soul... Soul hasn't gone home yet? Just how long have I been here?"

"A day and a half." Stein replied. "He hasn't left your side since. Black Star and the rest are currently at school."

"School?" Maka turned her head to the window, noticing that it was still bright outside. "They're at _school_..." She whispered to herself, in wonder. School had been so far, far away from her mind during those numbing hours in her life. It hadn't mattered: not her grades, not studying, not getting ahead in the lectures. It felt so insignificant compared to the looming threat of her imminent demise.

"Yes, and now that you are coherent and level-headed..." Stein started, standing up. He slipped his pen into his pocket, her chart under his arm. "Would you like to see Soul?"

"Yes!" Maka said, immediately. He cracked a small smile at her spirit: she would be just fine. He supposed the emotional issues would arise later during the day or perhaps week, when she had time to herself to deliberate the experience she had just survived.

"Maka?" Soul called hesitantly, entering the room after the professor left. His eyes landed on her, the green eyes that were hazy with painkillers but still as piercing. He rushed to her and his eyes darted to every part of her body – every bruise, every bandage. "How are you holding up?" He asked softly, not knowing where to put his hands. He stuffed them in his pockets instead.

"I'm okay!" Maka smiled. He breathed easy for now. "Professor..." She paused, gathering her scattered thoughts for a moment. "Professor Stein told me you waited outside this whole time."

"Yeah, I wasn't going to leave you alone after what happened."

"Why?" Maka mumbled, closing her eyes for a second to regain some strength. "You should have gone home! I bet you haven't eaten yet, have you? Did you at least shower and change?" She cracked an eye open to look at him. He had a clean shirt on and there didn't seem to be a speak of dirt on him...

"Tsubaki brought me a change of clothes a couple of hours ago." Soul shifted under the gaze of her narrowed eyes. He sniffed himself, wrinkling his nose. "Fine. I _didn't_ shower. There. Man, this is so uncool. I _stink_..."

Maka laughed before wincing and coughing, her hand holding her raw throat. She hadn't even known it was raw until she laughed! She could only guess how difficult swallowing food would be...

"Hey, are you okay?" Soul asked, alarmed. "Should I go get Stein—?"

Maka shook her head slowly, coughing one last time into her fist. "No, it's okay. My throat just hurts." She cleared it carefully. She didn't want to induce another coughing fit – it might actually shake up Soul enough to call Stein and that was the last thing she needed. "I'll be fine as long as I leave it alone."

His eyes lost their glint and became twin pools of empty scarlet. He hung his head, staring at the floor. His jaw hurt from how hard he was clenching it shut but it didn't compare to the pain his meister went through.

Nothing would.

He slipped a hand out of his pocket to grip the metal railings of her bed, his knuckles turning white.

"... Soul?"

He snapped his head up to her, attentively.

Maka lowered her eyes to the hand that gripped the bar tightly enough to make his knuckles pop out. She didn't have to ask why his eyes grew so cold and dark because she knew already.

It wasn't his fault but he still hadn't gotten over it.

She reached out slowly, resting her hand on top of his own.

His hand turned and she wove her fingers between his in comfort.

"... It's not your fault." She softly said. His hand was warm, soft, unlike her own. Hers felt dry and stiff and _weak._

"Yes, it is!" He viciously said, not bothering to hide it. "I was supposed to protect you. I _failed_. There's nothing else you can say that would make me believe otherwise."

Maka puffed her cheeks out. Was he challenging her? She would eventually find a way to prove him wrong. It was in her DNA to challenge certain beliefs, after all, she would not go down without a fight. That was one aspect of herself being held hostage had not erased. "No one _asked _you to protect me." She said steadily, staring at their held hands. "You did that yourself—!"

"Because I _care_ about you, stupid!" Soul snapped, his hand tearing from her own. He went back to strangling the rail. "That's why I did it – that's why I would _still _do it! Now more than ever." He scoffed at himself, his cynicism getting the better of him. "If I were you, I would find another weapon. One that can actually do its _job_ right..."

"What? No, don't say that!" Maka shouted in panic, jolting him from his dark thoughts. He looked up at her, in surprise. "Don't say stupid crap like that, Soul! So you didn't protect me _once_, that isn't any reason to beat yourself up over it!"

"It only takes _once_, Maka." Soul said through his teeth. "Might I remind just how _close _you came to dying a day ago?"

"So?"

Soul stared in disbelief. "So? _So? _That's all you have to say?" He was spitting furious; how could she dismiss this so easily? How, how, _how? _How, when he spent so much time tortured over it? How, when he agonized over it? How, when he felt like he would go _insane_ from sheer concern over her well-being? "Do you have _any _idea how worried I was? Fuck, I was so close to tearing Kid's head off when he told me my jacket wasn't symmetrical!" He exploded, making her wince. He was loud and her hearing was still sensitive. "When you contacted Lord Death..." He shut his eyes. The worst day of his life to date. "When you started to say goodbye..." He started to shake – out of grief or fury he still wasn't sure. "... don't you _ever_ scare me like that again, do you hear me?"

Maka tried to reach out for him but stopped short, her shoulder shrieking in pain. She tugged on his sleeve instead, pulling him to her. He understood her silent command and leaned over her, letting her slowly wrap her arms around his neck; all the while suppressing hisses of pain when her shoulder joints popped and creaked.

"I'm sorry."

"What're you apologizing for? It's not your fault."

"I'm as much at fault as you are."

"Not nearly as much as me."

"But it _is _partly my fault." Maka insisted stubbornly into his neck. "I was the one who didn't kill it when I had the chance..."

Soul scoffed. She wanted to split the guilt? Only Maka would try that. He allowed the first smile since she was abducted to graze his face. His hand cradled her head, his cheek pressed against hers and he was grateful to feel her warmth. It meant she was _alive_ and real and he _wasn't_ hallucinating from sleep deprivation.

She stunk of anesthetics and iodine.

He wouldn't have her any other way.

"...You know, you might wanna' consider a shower, too. You stink, Maka."

"You are _so _lucky I'm too sore to move right now!"

He laughed into her neck, pulling her even closer to him.

She was back.

And he was never letting her out of his sight again.

* * *

><p>"<em>Breakdown<br>Yeah, you breakdown  
>Well, don't you breakdown<br>Listen to me because  
>It's just a ride, it's just a ride..."<em>

* * *

><p>"<em>Maka<em>!" Tsubaki cried in relief, running to her side. Patty and Liz appeared beside her shortly after, crying in unison: "MAKA!" and throwing themselves at her with wide, watery, grins.

"Ow, ow, _ow_!" Maka winced, as the three girls cuddled closer to her; blubbering out things she could barely understand over the sound of Liz's sobs and Patty's garbled laughter.

"Hey!" Soul snapped. "She's still injured! Save it for when she's strong enough to walk!"

"I-I'm sorry!" Liz hiccuped, Patty nodding her head fervently beside her. "But I c-can't believe she's here!"

"We're so happy you're alright, Maka!" Patty screeched, bottom lip quivering. Her crystal eyes sparkled with glee. "Sissy and I thought you were a goner for sure, right, sissy?"

"Yeah, Pat, we did." Liz smiled weakly down at her.

"I'm so glad you're okay, Maka-chan." Tsubaki shuddered out, her relief palpable in her tone. "I was so worried when Professor Stein asked us to stay after school to talk about your current condition... I thought something _horrible_ had happened!"

"Figures Stein would make it sound like she died or something..." Soul muttered, running his fingers through his hair agitatedly. Stein had a terrible way of delivering _good _news; he could only imagine how he would act if he were breaking _bad _news to someone. The door creaked open and he saw Black Star enter slowly, almost cautiously. "Black Star...?" Soul blinked, with a furrow of his brows. He wasn't as energetic or jubilant as he had expected him to be.

Maka watched the boy approach her bed silently, studied his severe expression and solemn eyes. He loomed over her, asking evenly: "How you feelin'?"

Maka quirked a smile. "As if I could conquer the world."

Black Star's expression of melancholy broke into one of arrogance. "Don't get _too_ ahead of yourself, Maka, you'll have to go through the almighty Black Star before _that_ happens!"

She laughed softly. It was the only way she could laugh without her throat hurting. "We'll see!"

He grinned. "Great to have you back, Maka! See? I _told _you I would drag your sorry ass back to Shibusen!"

"Actually, _Professor Stein_ rescued me and we're _not_ in Shibusen, we're in Death City General Hospital." Maka dryly burst his bubble.

Black Star blinked before sniffing haughtily. He crossed his arms over his chest in defiance. "Keh! Close enough..."

They all burst into laughter.

She wondered when was the last time they had laughed like this.

Had it really been only a week ago? Before her capture and before her world was turned upside down? It sounded so surreal – that she was able to laugh and smile and joke around with her friends like this now.

She almost didn't believe it until Kid entered the room, a smile blossoming on his face when he spotted her.

"Maka, I'm so glad you are doing fine!" Kid greeted, standing beside Patty and Liz. "Professor Stein tells me you are stable and should be out in no time at all!"

"That's great!" Maka sighed in relief. She rotated her sore shoulder. The pain was a burn she could ignore now but that might've been the effects of the painkillers she had downed almost an hour ago. "I can't wait to get out! It's so stuffy and _boring_ in here..."

"Ah! That reminds me!" Kid snapped his fingers, reaching into the inside of his coat. He brought out a new book and Soul groaned.

"Why, Kid?" Soul mourned. "_Why_ are you arming her?"

"Shut up, Soul!" Maka chided smugly, reaching out for the book like a child reaching for their rattle. "Thank you, Kid! I owe you one!"

"No problem. I hope you like it. I wasn't sure of your literary taste so I picked out a personal favourite of mine." Kid added, as she read the back summary and realized it was a mystery.

She smiled warmly and nodded happily, placing the book on her lap for the time-being. "I love mystery! I think I'll like it a lot! Thanks again, Kid!"

Her friends.

Her life-lines.

All together, all smiling at her; grateful to have her back, to have her _alive_.

She was so lucky to have such a great group of friends, as Kid freaked out about the asymmetry of the vase of flowers Sid and Nygus had sent her through Stein.

* * *

><p>"<em>No need to run, no need to hide<br>It'll take you 'round and 'round  
>Sometimes you're up, sometimes you're down<br>It's just a ride, it's just a ride  
>Don't be scared, don't hide your eyes<br>It may feel so real inside  
>But don't forget it's just a ride..."<em>

* * *

><p>"<em>Not talking again, eh?"<em>

"_You'll be dead soon anyway."_

"_Lady Tanya is growing bored of your games...we want that spellbook NOW!"_

"_Decisions, decisions...decisions decisions—!"_

Maka jolted awake, soaked in sweat and pale-faced.

She tried to sit up instantly, her ribs howling in pain.

She gasped, clutching her side.

She threw her head back against the stiff pillow with a hiss when it only worsened, her shoulders so sore it hurt to even move.

Had the painkillers wore off?

Or was someone hurting her again?

"A-ah! Damn...ow..." Maka grimaced, shutting her eyes against the pain. Everything hurt! Everything was a horrible stab! It felt as if someone were hitting her again, like someone was kicking her – like the steel-toed boots of that interrogator when he swung by for a bloody visit – she needed a _doctor, _where was a doctor – ?

"Professor.. _Stein!_" Maka gasped, desperately. Her fingers sought out the nurse button and she pressed it rapidly, desperately, because everything hurt and she was too shaken to function. The shadows that stretched against the floor felt as if they were going to peel themselves off and attack her.

White – the ceiling was suddenly _too_ white!

White like that light when she was in her cell room.

The door creaked open and she was already sobbing.

She was going to be hurt again, wasn't she?

She honestly didn't know anything about that spellbook! But they refused to believe her: if they couldn't even trust her word that she wasn't lying about the book, how could they be sure that whatever else she said was the truth? It was like they were doing it on purpose – they just _wanted _to hurt her!

And she was probably right and that _scared_ her.

"—aka! I need you to calm down." His voice was neutral but forceful, as he tried to keep her strapped to the bed. "You're having a panic attack, I need you to breathe— !"

"N-no! Get away—_ from me_— !" Maka cried shrilly, kicking him away blindly. Were they going to try things on her again? Only one had managed to try to touch her and she had felt so terrified when he did. Her panic ratcheted up to dangerous levels and she became hysterical – trying to pry Stein's cold hands off her arms – trying to get rid of that burned-in image of the interrogator that flashed behind the lids of her eyes; his wide grin and his savage eyes and his – !

"Get off her—_Maka!_" A hand grabbed her cheek, raising her head up. Her wild eyes lock on scarlet and she froze momentarily. She recognized that color. "Maka, it's me, Soul! Calm down. You're hurting yourself."

"S-Soul?" Maka shuddered, trembling. But her erratic heartbeat greatly declined, breaths coming easier than before. If Soul was here, then... "I... it's just..." She finally comprehended her surroundings. Stein was standing behind Soul, holding a syringe that she was sure contained a sedative to put her out for a while. A nurse was on her other side, concerned, but her wide eyes darted to Soul when he spoke again:

"It's okay, Maka." He soothed, pushing her back down on her bed. His hand smoothed back her hair gently. "You're fine. You're in the hospital, remember? You just had a bad dream. That's all."

"J-just a dream..." She agreed distractedly, allowing herself to be pushed back on her bed. Her body still screamed in pain and her eyes shut to show this, a pained groan escaping her. She heard Soul demand some pain medication and it wasn't long before someone injected her with something.

But it soothed the pain and that was enough for her.

His hand left but she reached out like lightening, gripping it in place.

She flashed fearful eyes in his direction – he wasn't leaving, was he?

She was still mildly convinced that the instant she was alone, the shadows would take her and she'd be faced with the terrible smirk of her main interrogator — not the one with the bored, sleazy, smile but with the one with the steel-toed boots and sadistic grin and finger-less gloves.

Soul glanced at Stein, who nodded silently and gestured the nurse out with a jerk of his chin. "I'll handle the rest. She's fine for now."

Stein tossed Soul a blanket that was folded under the bed, along with one of the hospitals hard pillow. He pushed a chair to her bedside with his foot and said, calmly: "If she has another episode, call me."

"Yeah."

"Goodnight Soul, Maka. I'll be in the lobby if you need me." He spared her one last glance, coldly analytical, before leaving and letting the silence of the night return.

She felt foolish, needing to hold his hand in order to feel safe, but she couldn't help it. If she let go, it would feel as if she was border-lines away from him again.

That type of separation frightened her.

Maka resigned herself to a night spent clutching onto Soul's hand like her life depended on it. She inwardly hoped he didn't mind: she knew it couldn't be comfortable sleeping like that, in a chair, with her clutching his hand.

".. I'm sorry..." She whispered after a few seconds of silence.

Soul sighed and leaned forward. He placed the pillow under his chin, bringing their held hands to sit on top of the pillow. "Don't sweat it. Didn't I do something like this to you, too?" Soul asked, with a crooked grin.

"Yeah, when Medusa was still the school nurse..." Maka elaborated, remembering that day clearly. She had been so worried and guilt-ridden and miserable in those days. In that instant, she wondered if their positions had switched with this incident, and he squeezed her hand to grab her attention again.

"Hey, snap out of it." Soul frowned. "You're not thinking about _that _again, are you?"

Maka shifted her eyes away.

Soul sighed. "Geez... that was, what, four years ago?" He slumped a little further, securing their hands by lacing his fingers through her own. The movement made her feel better; he _always_ knew how to make her feel better. "I thought you got over that already."

"I _did_." Maka defended herself. "But you made me remember again..."

He rolled his eyes. "If you were _really_ over it, remembering it wouldn't get you all depressed. Cheer up, bookworm, it's boring when you're sad."

Her glare softened at his smile and she squeezed their held hands.

"Thanks, Soul..."

"For what?" He asked, voice muffled by his sleeve.

Maka closed her eyes. She felt much calmer now, without the urge to bolt out of the room and find a hiding place. She rationally guessed it was because of the drug that was spreading through her veins to ease the pain but she liked to think it was because of Soul. She liked to think that, because he was here, she would be okay and she didn't need some funky medication to bring her back to reality.

"For caring about me..."

He stared at their hands for a second.

"I'll always care about you, Maka." He promised softly, watching her gradually fall into a peaceful sleep. It was when her heart rate evened out, her breaths slowed and her grip on his hand loosened, that he admitted _it_ aloud for the first time since the thought had ever crossed his mind:

"I love you, Maka."

* * *

><p>"<em>Slowly, oh so very slowly<br>Accept that there's no getting off  
>So live with it, just gotta' go with it<br>'Cause this ride's never gonna' stop..."_

* * *

><p>"Ouch!" Maka whined, leaning against Soul for support. Walking never seemed difficult before but now, with sore ribs, sore shoulders, and a <em>very<em> sore thigh, it was torture and Soul's impatience wasn't making things any better. "Ow! Hey, watch it, Soul!"

"_You _watch it – you're stepping on my foot!"

"You're getting in my way!"

Stein stood behind them, watching as Soul Eater struggled to reach his motorcycle so that she may arrive home and resume her rest.

She wasn't allowed to attend school for an indefinite amount of time – Stein approximated four weeks, just in case – but after some badgering from the girl, Stein allowed her to return to her home to continue the rest of her recovery.

If they could get to his motorcycle, that is.

"That's it!" Soul snapped, and carefully picked her up. She sucked in a breath, flinching when her ribs ached in protest when he settled her in his arms. "You good?"

"Y-yeah..." Maka grunted, pressing a hand to her ribs to dull the sharp jabs. "I can walk to the parking lot, though—!"

"Thanks again, Stein!" Soul said instead, ignoring her. He smiled, grateful. "We owe you one!"

"You can pay me back by spending a night in my laboratory one day!" Stein suggested cheerily, and Soul tightened his grip on Maka.

"No, not happening." He deadpanned.

"Oh, well." Stein took a draw of smoke, wistful. "I can always get _senpai_ to do it."

"_Papa_." Maka winced. It has been around a week and a half since she arrived to the hospital and her father had dropped by to visit her a few hours after her friends had. He had hugged her, cried, and did just about every humiliating thing a father _wasn't_ supposed to do but still did anyway: like proclaim his adoration for her while snot ran down his lip...and try to jump the nurse when she walked in, to her utmost irritation.

"He'll be informed of your relocation later." Stein assured breezily. "When I feel like telling him..."

"Thank you, professor." Maka waved as Soul walked to his motorcycle, easily swinging a leg over it and settling her on his lap. "Uh, aren't I going behind?"

Soul spared her a glance and reached around her to ignite the bike. "Too dangerous."

Maka rolled her eyes. "I _think _I could hold onto you, Soul."

Soul shook his head. "It's too risky and you won't be comfortable, anyway. Your ribs are still healing, so you'll be more comfortable like this."

"But—!"

"Just deal with it, Maka, you're not going behind." Soul firmly decided, making the engine roar to life and effectively blotting out her indignant remark. She closed an eye at the rough winds that tousled her loose ashy hair, allowing her gaze to drift to the clear blue sky.

It was crystalline and beautiful, the sun grinning down at her. The wind was suddenly sweeter and the proximity to her partner, to the boy she had been yearning to be with when she had been chained to the wall, became of utmost importance.

She buried her face in his chest, clutching his shirt. He was really there, with her, and she was really alive, not locked in a cage, breathing in the dry Nevada air that didn't taste as dry anymore.

She was _really_ alive...

"Hey, are you okay?" Soul asked, concerned when she didn't react to the bike parking in the lot of their building. He expected her to be thrilled that they've arrived home but she hadn't stopped clutching his shirt. She had hardly moved. "Maka—!"

"Don't!" Maka gasped weakly, turning to hide her watery eyes from sight. The heat made the tears that streamed down her face more real for her. "Just...just stay still for a l-little while." Her voice thickened, as she restrained sobs. "Just for a little..wh-while... please..."

He understood immediately and wrapped an arm around her, as she cried into his chest for the life she had only begun to appreciate.

* * *

><p>"<em>It's just a ride, it's just a ride<br>Don't be scared, now, dry your eyes  
>It may feel so real inside<br>But don't forget, enjoy the ride."_

* * *

><p>Three weeks.<p>

It had been three weeks since the incident in Chicago.

Her room was dark. The sickle moon hung high in the bluish sky, obscured by mist. It hadn't even been one hour since she had begun to fall asleep yet she was already reliving things she'd rather not. She could feel the way the wall pressed against her back, the way the chains chafed her wrist, and the way the glass dug into her palm...

Maka sat up, scooting to rest against the headboard of her bed. When that became too uncomfortable, she slide off her bed and padded to the living room, where she sat on the couch quietly. The wooden floor was cold and she stared at her toes, traced the scar left behind in between them from the shard of glass. It had dug in deeper than she had believed. She was glad that the couch was angled away from the window, allowing enough dark to obscure any more otherwise visible scars on her body.

She debated turning on the television to see if there was something good on at two in the morning that could ease the tension she felt deep within her bones, when the thought of waking Soul entered her mind.

He still had to go to school although he seemed very reluctant to leave her alone for more than ten minutes. But she couldn't be waking him up for reasons like dumb _nightmares!_ She was Maka, his meister, and tough-as-nails. He had already seen her cry more times than she'd like and she didn't want to worry him anymore. She could still see the traces of guilt in his ruby eyes and it made her gut twist whenever she thought of the turmoil he was going through; the _same_, if not _worse_, pain she'd felt when he got that gash across his chest due to her own carelessness...

"What're you doing up so late?" Soul asked, walking out from the kitchen. He had loitered there for the past twenty minutes: blowing bubbles in his milk as he contemplated Maka's slow but sure recovery. He had deliberated dropping heavier hints, since she obviously wasn't getting it; subtle ways to show her affection without scaring her away. But he couldn't think up any other way to show it without being obvious: Maka just wasn't getting it and it was rather frustrating. "It's gonna' be three in the morning."

"I should be asking _you_ that." Maka retorted. "You have school tomorrow..."

"It's not like I actually stay awake during class." He shrugged, as he sat next to her. She noticed he sat closer to her again; it was a habit he had picked up recently. He had picked up a lot of weird habits: like resting against her when she read on the couch, standing behind her and guiding her gently when she stood up to go somewhere, or playing with her clothes, hair, _hand _when she was studying...

"You shouldn't sleep in class, Soul! Professor Stein told me you have a test for his class this Friday."

"We do?" Soul groaned. "The hell? You don't even _go_ to school and you still know when we have tests? Well, good thing you told me – I'm not coming on Friday."

"You can't ditch class because of a test." Maka said, reprovingly. "Aren't they giving away detentions if they find you out of your classrooms during class hours?"

"No, they're taking away _mission _hours if they find students outta' class." Soul smirked at her worried face. "Relax, Maka, Black Star and I haven't gotten caught since we were fourteen. We got a place to hang out in when we ditch."

"Which would be...?"

"Death Burgers."

"The fast food restaurant right across from Shibusen?" Maka gaped.

"It's so obvious that no one _ever_ looks there!" Soul exclaimed brightly, immediately silenced by Maka's powerful punch to his shoulder. "Aw—_shit_ that hurt!" He squawked, rubbing his bruised shoulder. "Damn, why'd you punch me? I think that hurt more than your Maka Chop's!"

"Good. Thanks for the heads up – I'll punch you more often now!" Maka snapped, to his chagrin. "You're _not_ ditching Friday. You're taking the test. I don't care if you fail it, at least it's something. Stein is averaging my grade using your own so you _better _get me at least a _B_, Soul!"

"...I'll do it if I feel like it..." He howled in pain when she delivered another blow to his shoulder. "Alright, alright! I'll go! I'll go! I promise – just _stop_..." He groaned, pitifully.

"That's what I thought." She then sighed softly, slumping down. She felt tired but she was afraid of sleep: nightmares still plagued her dreams, and usually she recovered the sleep she lost at the night during the day. But she knew she wouldn't be able to keep the cycle for long: she would be returning to school soon and she needed to regulate her sleep. She wouldn't be able to function during the day without at least nine hours of sleep. She got three to four hours on a good night nowadays and that spelled disaster for her.

"Nightmares again?"

"Mm"

"What were they about this time?"

She opened her tired eyes. "The same thing as always: he opens the door, he calls me names, then he hits me." She dropped her eyes to her lap. "And I can't do anything about it. This time I dreamed about the shard of glass, but it broke..." She trailed off, remembering the vivid horror she felt when the shard broke in her hand and cut through tender muscle. "Then I woke up."

"Come here." Soul demanded, and she obeyed wordlessly. Her hand rested on her tender ribs to muffle the soft burn that flared from her sudden movements. Once she was adjusted on his lap, his fingers soothingly running through her hair as they usually did when he caught her awake because of a nightmare, did she feel completely at ease and safe. "Didn't I tell you to wake me up if you have nightmares?"

"I don't want to bother you." Maka softly said, eyes closed. His fingers disentangled the knots in her hair every time they combed through. It was comforting. It was what her mother used to do when she was younger, when she still lingered around their home despite her fathers unfaithfulness.

"Maka." She was startled when he pressed his palm against her cheek, bringing her head up to face him. He leaned down, as if to get a better look at something on her face, and said: "I used to get nightmares all the time – it's not cool to wake up to no one. If you need me then come get me. I'll always be here."

She searched his eyes, reflecting a darker red than usual, but nodded wordlessly. His hand did not move, however, and neither did his face, and she wondered why for a second. She wondered what he was searching for with so much intensity in her own eyes, her face. In that instant, she remembered being on the other side of the mirror, watching him hang his head; that shadow of anguish marring his handsome face.

Her hand twitched and rose up to cup his cheek, as she had wanted to do during that grim moment in her life, and something curious happened. She hadn't _known_ what was happening until his mouth was inches from her own. His breath feathered her lips, hot and heavy. That was when she realized holding his face with the same tenderness he did, under the cloak of night, with their faces pulled so close together already, _probably_ gave the wrong idea...

But by then it was too late.

He tasted like milk, as comical as that sounded.

Milk and cookies: he was eating late night snakes _again_, she'd have to scold him for that. These thoughts abruptly vanished when he pushed her back on the couch, hovering over her as their lips pushed against each other with an edge of desperation. She made a noise in her throat when her side jolted with pain but Soul swiftly pushed her up to a more comfortable position; now kneeling between her thighs.

She was glad she was wearing her pajama pants and _not_ her shorts when his lips drew away and she breathed in deep gulps of air; just realizing how much air she had been missing. Her hands were trembling, she noticed absently, but it was not out of fear or regret. She pressed her palms against his chest to still them, able to feel his pounding heart. He was just as shaken as she was, she realized slowly.

"Just think," he grinned out a few seconds later, "you were gonna' leave without getting some action from the coolest Deathscythe around."

"Shut _up_!" Maka shoved a pillow into his face to hide her own flushed one from his eyes. She giggled when he growled and tore the pillow away, tossing it somewhere behind him. "There's more to life than just 'getting some action', Soul."

"Yeah..." Soul trailed off, smiling softly at her laugh. But the look vanished and was replaced with one of mischief. "Like video games and being cool."

Maka rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless."

"Only on weekdays." Soul yawned, rolling off her and landing on his feet on the floor. On his haunches, he peered over at her. "Hey, you gonna' sleep there or something? Your back's gonna' kill you when you wake up tomorrow."

"It's not like I'm _going_ anywhere!" Maka sourly reminded, glad the heat in her cheeks was receding with their casual conversation. He wasn't pushing it and for that she was relieved. "At least it'd give me something to _do_..."

"I told you you could use my Xbox if you're that bored." Soul pointed out.

"And turn out like you? I'll pass." Maka sighed, ignoring his look of offense. She sat up carefully, smiling down at him. "I'll sleep in my room right now, you go ahead without me."

Soul frowned but stood, beginning to head over to his room. "If you want, you can crash in my room tonight." Soul offered over his shoulder. Her face steadily warmed when she caught sight of his soft smile. "Then you'd wake up to someone." He left his bedroom door open for her and she decided sitting alone in the darkness until dawn wasn't worth it but waking up to him was.

So she scrambled off the couch, flushing a deeper red when she tripped over her feet and nearly fall flat on her face. She needed to get a hold of herself, Maka scolded, Soul had walked away perfectly fine yet she was stumbling over _air! _It was a good thing he'd gone ahead or he would never let her live it down, she thought as she entered his room and crawled into bed with him.

"Hey, Soul, scoot over! You're taking all the space!"

"Maka, you're half my size! That's _enough_ room for you!"

"No, it's not! I need my _space_!"

"I can't move anymore! You'll kick me off the bed at this point!"

"You're such a liar – you've got a foot of space over there! _Move_!"

"What, are you blind? I'm practically on the edge! _You _move!"

At least, Maka wryly thought, as they both settled into his bed with minor bickering, she could safely say she wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N: <strong>Hehe.

I had to end it that way, didn't I? So cliché, but I make it cool ;)

I vaguely recall having a similar conversation when I slept over at my cousins house once upon a time – except I won in the end and I woke up to her half-way out of the bed, using her nightstand as a support beam so she didn't totally fall out of bed XD

_Scarlett._


End file.
